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2014-01-13 04:29 am (UTC)
To be fair, Grantaire does not stumble into a tree because he is drunk. He stumbles into a tree because it's dark, and then regards it reproachfully as he reaches down to rub the offended foot.
"My toe, outstretched beneath a tree. I tell you, friend, of my wrath, that it may not grow, and yield poison. Ah, god --" He turns and rests his back against the tree, squinting back into the dark the way he's come; it's as unhelpful as every other direction. "A tree is only its house in its most natural form," he mutters, "and this shows the folly of the natural."
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